


Wifedom

by Leafling



Series: Dominion [5]
Category: Fright Night (1985)
Genre: M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 12:11:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17001429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leafling/pseuds/Leafling
Summary: Or, Charlie indulges Jerry's fantasy. For a while.





	Wifedom

**Author's Note:**

> written 1-27-2017, just wanted to finally publish it. I don't know if I'll ever finish this series, but I want to try and upload all the drafts for it, just incase anyone was still interested.
> 
> WIFEDOM
> 
> NOUN
> 
> 1: The state, condition, or fact of being a wife; the character or qualities of a wife.
> 
> 2: Wives collectively; married women as a class. Now rare.
> 
> Wife • Dom

Jerry doesn't expect him to cook or clean or keep the house nice; after all, what's the point of a ghoul manservant if he doesn't slave away for hours getting the new house just right.

 

That doesn't mean he doesn't like the little touches that Charlie's presence results in -- the way the teen rearranges the cushions on the couch, or how he helps to dust or polish.

 

He doesn't treat Charlie like his dead wife and parade him around in her old clothes. The woman's dead and that's that. 

 

At least, that's what Jerry keeps telling him... Charlie is still wary of being stuffed into a corset.

 

And, as much as he talks of obedience and submission, Jerry doesn't actually want a collared pet. No, what Charlie has discovered is that what his master really wants is a _companion_. Not a maid, not a replacement, not a toy -- but someone to keep him real company, to learn all over.

 

Why he picked Charlie literally instead of any and all other eligible bachelor(ette)s is lost to the teen, more so why Jerry was so determined to get him to break in the beginning -- to make Charlie _like_ him.

 

His master's power was seemingly limitless. Jerry just as easily could've brainwashed him, could've kept hurting him until he submitted. 

 

Instead, after all the violence and totalitarian domination, Jerry insisted on being... _gentle._ Threats turned into sweet nothing's, bared teeth into a brush of lips, rape into tender lovemaking that made Charlie weep and moan for a million reasons. 

 

Maybe it's all a ruse, to get him comfortable and complacent before Jerry's true intentions manifested -- maybe it was his true intention for them to mold around one another, to become lovers in this almost _mythological_ sense. 

 

Whatever the case, Charlie can only fight his vampiric instincts for so long. 

 

It's maybe weeks, maybe months, possibly _years_ after he's turned -- who knows anymore, time has kinda loss meaning now that Charlie has an eternity and beyond -- when Jerry, insisting on acting like a spoiled, demonic child, lays his head in Charlie's lap and demands to be attended to. 

 

"That's really cute, y'know, the way you just," Charlie says with a mixture of sarcasm and something that's beginning to sound like playfulness, gesticulating in this unnecessarily expressive way to show how his master is just _draped_ over him and the couch, languid and boneless, crowding the teen into the corner. With no bite whatsoever, he scoffs, "it's not like I was getting **comfortable.** "

 

Jerry's on his back, one arm thrown over his stomach, the other dangling off the edge of the couch. His perfectly coiffed hair suddenly a mess atop Charlies thighs, and for some reason the teen's fingertips itch to rake through those midnight colored curls. He gives Charlie this look of utter disinterest, but his mouth is furled in the corner. Not scolding, but **_encouraging_**. He's becoming a begrudging fan of the 'ol Brewster sass.  

 

"Don't you ever get tired of complaining _all the time_?" He replies snarkily, eyes tracing the curve of Charlie's jaw like he hasn't already got the teen's features committed to memory.

 

Charlie rolls his own eyes, sinking back into the couch as much as it allows. "I don't complain _all the time_. Just when you act like --"

 

_"I own you?" Because I do._

 

"-- like a spoiled little kid," he finishes as though Jerry didn't interject, "or an animal, constantly marking its territory."

 

Jerry growls in response to both analogies, eyes narrowing into slivers and making Charlie laugh. "Don't prove my point," he says as he gives into the earlier urge to pet his master's hair. Running his fingers through surprisingly soft curls, he announces, "although, of all the ways to do that, I ... mind this the least."

 

Jerry is quiet at the admission, but his eyes soften.

 

The TV hums quietly in the background, forgotten but unjudging. 

 

Charlie is almost tempted to comment on how his master didn't ruin the moment for once, but decides not to because he knows then that Jerry will do just that. Bastard he is. Instead, Charlie sighs softly and tries to focus on the show he was trying to watch. The sound is fuzzy to his ears, though, his eyes refusing to stay glued onto the moving picture before him. No, now that he's said what he's said, he can't help but fixate on the figure in his lap. 

 

Jerry is watching him unblinkingly, but not expectant, and it's almost like something has changed between them.

 

Realizing he's still petting Jerry's hair after at least ten minutes passes, Charlie swallows around the proverbial lump that's just made a home in his throat, "on second thought, with you **watching me** like this -- "

 

Jerry surges up, interupting his sass by kissing him square on the mouth like it's the only reasonable course of action and Charlie _swoons_... for whatever reason.

 

As Jerry shifts to better angle their mouths and Charlie's fingers thread into the hairs at the nape of his neck to hold him in that **perfect** position he finds. Charlie **knows** that that _something_ has changed irrevocably between them. 

 

When Jerry sits back against the other arm of the couch and Charlie climbs eagerly into his lap, absolutely unwilling to relinquish his master's mouth, Charlie knows that something's **broken** in him. _His will; his resistance to his master's advances, perhaps?_

 

Astride Jerry's lap, Charlie feels himself being pushed back so that his master can look at him, can brush his hair from his face and murmur words of admiration into his neck. "I can make you feel so good, Charlie," he hums, breath not quite warm against the bite wound in Charlie's neck, "I want to make you feel good, Charlie. _Will you let me?_ "

 

The teen shakes his head, quickly explains himself before Jerry can chastise him. "You stopped me from watching tv because you wanted me to entertain you, right?" He explains in a quiet murmur, but with only a slight tremor in his voice. "Well, lemme entertain you," his grip tightens in Jerry's hair then and the master vampire is harder than steel underneath him. It's thrilling.

 

"Oh, _Charlie_ ," Jerry purrs in a mixture of delight and surprise, blunt fingernails a constant pressure as he grips Charlie's waist hungrily.

 

The teen isn't as thorough or romantic as his master. Even if he wasn't a gawky vampire unaware of the potential of his growing strength, he's still a teenager and he still has the patience of one. 

 

He doesn't undress or let himself be undressed. He doesn't do foreplay -- unless making out and rutting desperately counts as foreplay. He's quick to get Jerry inside of him and even quicker to establish a short, stabbing rhythm that makes the master vampire growl and chuckle equally. 

 

"There's no rush, Charlie," Jerry teases even though he matches every thrust with equal ferocity.

 

"Who said I was rushing?" Charlie groans, head lolling side to side as he takes it as hard as he can. Challengingly, he adds "are ... are you gonna break?"

 

Jerry bites him reproachfully, but that ravenous look in his eye -- the one that says _I love you like this. I want to devour you_ does little to curb the burning need in Charlie's stomach. " _You,_ yes, if you keep this up," he warns like Charlie hadn't already been broken, like Charlie wouldn't get harder at the exclamation. 

 

Charlie's responding laughter sounds pained as it's overtaken by a harsh moan, "oh, don't... don't tell me you _really_ want me to slow down now." He continues to taunt, tensing around Jerry's cock and making the master vampire's eyes go red at the obviousness of the threat.

 

Jerry sinks his teeth and claws into Charlie and the teen shudders hard as he comes. His master's mouth is wet against his collarbones, "I'm beginning to think you like it rough, Charlie."

 

The teen makes a choking sound, which thankfully stops him from telling Jerry the truth, that he /likes it all. Anyway his master wants to give it to him. _Just, please, don't stop._

 

When Jerry comes inside him, Charlie snarls at him, "Yes... ah, _yesss!_..." and he rambles on and on, a mess of moans and hiccups that basically are his way of saying _I love you._

 

And this, borderline savage fucking seems to go on for ages, before eventually shifting and breaking down to something tender and gentle that culminates not in fighting or tears, but Charlie kissing his master all over his face. 

 

It fractures him at his very foundation, but Charlie finally settles into the role Jerry has picked for him. 


End file.
